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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29800980">we can watch the sun rise forever</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunriseafterdark/pseuds/sunriseafterdark'>sunriseafterdark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>No Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gods &amp; Goddesses, Baking, Deity Toby Smith | Tubbo, Domestic Fluff, How Do I Tag, Kinda?, M/M, Sunrises, since that's not a tag yet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 17:33:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29800980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunriseafterdark/pseuds/sunriseafterdark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>tubbo and his favorite mortal try (and fail, somewhat) at baking bread. they also try to catch the sunrise. it all works out in the end</p><p> </p><p>this is a deity!tubbo and mortal!ranboo au because there are too many deity!ranboo aus. you're all sleeping on tubbo</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ranboo/Toby Smith | Tubbo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>190</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>we can watch the sun rise forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Tubbo, you’re a terrible baker.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both stare at their flour-covered kitchen, though for different reasons—Tubbo’s dying of laughter, and Ranboo’s mildly exasperated. It doesn’t help that Tubbo had decided to trace something vaguely phallic on their counter, which was originally the only surface in the kitchen with flour on it, and they’ve woken up at a ridiculous hour to bake </span>
  <em>
    <span>bread</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A snicker escapes Tubbo. “I might be, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but you’ve got to admit that we’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>terrible bakers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo sighs and glances out the window, looking at the world around them awash in the blue light of dawn before turning away and grabbing a broom. His tail is carefully lifted away from the floor to avoid spreading even more flour around, though the flour particles in the air catch the light and make their kitchen look somewhat ethereal. “You aren’t wrong, honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Ranboo says fondly, starting to sweep the floor, “I’m starting to regret waking up at four. You’re all giddy and loopy because four is just too early for anyone to be awake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think about the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sunrise</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Boo!” Tubbo exclaims, pushing himself up onto the counter with practiced ease, “think about how pretty the transition from this blue light that doesn’t actually light anything up to the yellow that matches the actual aesthetic of this house!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even more flour rises into the air in puffs and curls like smoke because of the sudden movement, evident by Tubbo coughing profusely immediately after he finishes his sentence. Ranboo follows suit, too, half-laughing and half-coughing, sleep still lingering in his mind unlike his husband, who seems to always be alert no matter the time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they finally stop coughing, Ranboo takes a deep breath and starts sweeping again. “I stand by my statement. We should have not woken up this early,” Ranboo retorts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, come on, I thought you’d be a morning person!” Tubbo says, reaching out to brush off Ranboo’s shoulders as he gets closer to the counter, avoiding the cloud of flour he sends into the air this time. The simple gesture sends warmth throughout Ranboo’s body, and it’s not just because his favorite person out of the entire world decided to touch him, it’s infused with </span>
  <em>
    <span>something else</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Suddenly the kitchen smells like honey. “There you go, don’t you feel more awake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo blinks rapidly for a few seconds, stopping in his tracks. “Tubbo, did you just…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grins. “A deity never tells.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, I can’t believe you used your powers to wake me up out of all things,” Ranboo says, clearly more energetic this time, continuing his sweeping. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>don’t know how you manage to do that, honestly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My domain is more than bees and flowers, you know,” teases Tubbo easily, a crooked grin forming on his lips. “It not only includes being extremely attractive and devilishly handsome, it also—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both collapse into laughter again before Tubbo even has the chance to finish his sentence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they do finally catch their breath, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>blue hour </span>
  </em>
  <span>period of dawn still subbornly remains; its chill more pleasant than bothersome, but still an odd guest in their home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gently, Ranboo collects all of the flour he’s been sweeping into a small pile near their backdoor. “Man, we just wasted like half a sack of flour,” he says, sighing in that exaggerated way that lets Tubbo know he’s not actually upset. “Why do I even do stuff for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you love me,” Tubbo grins, swinging his legs giddily from where they dangle off the edge of the counters. The way that it makes him feel as carefree as a child and the way it emphasizes just how short he is compared to Ranboo are the main reasons why Tubbo sits on their counter even when it’s covered in flour, and Ranboo can’t help the smile that spreads across his face at both the sight and the words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo tries to sigh, but it’s hard to keep the fondness out of the gesture. “Alright, you win,” he admits, “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>love you, so come here and help me with the bread.” With an upwards tug at his sweater sleeves, Ranboo rolls them up and walks towards the oven.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo slides off the counter easily, this time with barely any flour clouds, and walks over to where his husband is, bare feet against cold terracotta tiles making a soft tapping sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you glazed them with the sugar water?” questions Tubbo, trying to take a peek through the small window cut into the oven door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I actually remembered that!” comes the excited reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo laughs softly and reaches up from behind Ranboo to run a hand through his hair, growing a flower crown that instantly curls around Ranboo’s temples. “Great job, honey,” he says with all the sincerity he can muster (which is quite a lot), “you’re doing great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that me not being constantly stressed is helping,” Ranboo says, pulling on oven mittens, clearly perking up at the new addition to his mussed hair. That is, if his tail is any indicator. “That’s all thanks to you, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Strategically, Tubbo steps back the moment Ranboo opens the oven door. “Building this house has been the strangest thing I’ve ever done, honestly, because of all the bees and the flowers,” Tubbo replies while drumming his fingers on his thigh. “I’m pretty sure the strangeness is a big part of that distraction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo pulls out the loaf of bread, its scent immediately making Tubbo’s mouth water, and kills the fire. “I mean, the terrible baking attempts are also a factor.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span>, terrible?” Tubbo says indignantly, but the tinge of warmth in the otherwise completely blue sky tells him they don’t have enough time for banter. Ranboo laughs as Tubbo says, “We need to hurry if you want to catch the sunrise, but we’ve gotta settle that later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While the two of them laugh, Tubbo still bare feet in an oversized hoodie and shorts while Ranboo is wearing an apron over his sweater and sweatpants with socks and sandals, they race just outside their door in time to find the sky painted in every shade of orange and pink and yellow, standing in wonder even though they’ve seen this so many times, its beauty never getting old.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo tears their bread loaf in half and offers one piece to Tubbo quietly, utter silence in the face of the gold that the entire area is now drenched in. The blue skies has faded away into the beginnings of sunrise; warm light starts filtering in through their open windows and open doors. Coupled with the heat of the oven melting whatever remnants of nighttime chills away from their kitchen, life starts to rise around them along with the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never gets boring,” Ranboo says, and Tubbo doesn’t have to look to know how wide his husband is smiling.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>can you tell i wrote this immediately after i published chapter two of 4am? anyway give me clout go follow me on tumblr (endearbee) and the person who has been very very crucial to the creation of this au (aloeblue)! this ones for you aloe</p></blockquote></div></div>
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